Different
by MaxxieBEYOND
Summary: Harry always knew he was different. Harry Potter/ Thumbelina...with a twist. Written for a Drarry twisted fairytales contest. T for swearing and a bit more than kissing.


_They always knew I was different. Ever since I was little, I've been the odd one out. Always alone in the classroom, always alone in the playground, always alone on the way home. They stared. They talked about me behind my back. I even got my own honorary nick-name-Thumbelina- as I was short, scrawny and very, very different. I guess they thought I was just too different to even care. Not that I did, mind you. They could call me what they want. My, I was a bitter young boy, yet I suppose it was not surprising considering my circumstances._

_My aunt and uncle confessed to me that some old beggar woman left me on their doorstep when I was a baby, with nought but a name and a flowery blanket covered in tacky embroidery. I highly doubt that was the case, as those two are madder than cattle and tend to blow things out of proportion- much like that fat, bloated son of theirs. I found that I was even more different when I opened my letter from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. That was a most peculiar night. I recall being stolen away by one Rubeus Hagrid, groundskeeper of said school. I despised him, deeply, from the very bottom of my heart. My aunt and uncle had beaten years of snobbish prejudice into my mind, and I do believe it had poisoned me; as when I saw his unkempt, weather-worn appearance, my first reaction was to vomit. Since I was a polite young man, I did not._

_I ended up in some shabby alley, buying a wand from some mad old coot that seemed to have far too much time on his hands. That giant oaf, Hagrid, regarded me a little too closely as I snatched the wand from Olivander's hands. The first surge of power I felt radiating through my body was like none other. I felt like nothing in the world could touch me. Truly enlightened._

_This 'enlightenment', however, didn't last long. Hogwarts itself was a huge disappointment. I was sorted into Slytherin house. Not that I cared, it didn't really matter to me. I hated the lessons, there were all about silly little spells such as transfiguring a match into a needle- one such activity I came to loathe after being unsuccessful the first few times I attempted it. Moreover my company was truly awful. My class was full of bone-idle, nondescript cretins who showed no interest in their lessons. Save one snooty bitch, that Granger girl._

_Weasley was decent company, I guess. He was relatively friendly and made an effort to talk, even when I didn't. I sort of liked that, but it got annoying eventually. When I overheard a group of Gryffindors persecuting the boy for hanging around me, I never heard from Ron again. It was obviously too embarrassing to be seen with me._

_Most of my year was spent alone, braving the sea of academic torture (that almost drowned me at one point, might I add). I kept myself to myself. The rest of the Slytherins must have seen me as an enemy for defeating their precious Voldemort._

_One day, on a trip to Hogsmeade, I met someone who changed my life, almost as much as the blond man who is currently sitting behind me as I write this journal. Draco's been annoying me all day. I've found something more interesting than him for once and he's bored. Anyway, now that I look back, I think I was just grateful to have someone who understood me as a friend._

_I was walking out of Honeyduke's when I decided to take a little stroll. Ditching the teacher and other students had been too easy, and I was only too happy to celebrate that fact by visiting the one place no one else wanted to._

_I had always wanted to visit the Shrieking Shack. I found ghosts absolutely fascinating in my younger years, especially after long audiences with the Bloody Baron. My heartbeat accelerated a little as I stepped past the trees, giving me a clear view of the wooden structure. Something close to the shack moved. I frowned, irritated that I was not alone; however, the figure that emerged from the front door seemed to be coming back this way to leave. Grinning, I started walking towards my destination, happy that I would be left alone for my visit. It was scarier that way._

_I remember seeing her hair and immediately wanting to touch it. It was not proper decorum to do so I did not. She wore black mostly; a black, velvet robe covering her body and black boots. Her hair was wild and untamed. It fell in small ringlets from where it was suspended on the top of her head. She sort of reminded me of a mongoose._

_As she passed, something about me must have warranted her attention because the stranger stopped, not two feet in front of me._

_"Potter-" She spat, but stopped herself saying more. Maybe the bitch reminded herself of who I really was. "**Ever** so nice to meet you."_

_I steadied my ground as she sneered, exposing her teeth. See? A mongoose._

_"Who are you." Huh, that's funny. It sounds a lot more demanding when I think about it, so I guess she had a valid reason for her next remark._

_"I," The woman said, holding her head up high and looking down her nose at me. "Am Bellatrix Lestrange."_

_I liked her almost immediately. Being the 'Chosen One' and all, I was very used to people sucking up to me. She didn't. I found the maddening look in her eyes endearing. The way she carried herself was regal. I liked the fact that she could've killed me easily if she wanted to. The very way she spoke, walked, talked and acted demanded respect. I gave it to her, and desperately wished to be like her. From then on we became friends of a sort. No, it was more like she was a mother hen. When I needed her, she would talk to me. Via owl of course, I'd always suspected she was a dark witch…but I couldn't bring myself to care. I tired of the presence of these filthy half breeds and mudbloods. Bella was different- just like me._

_I remember once that Bellatrix had taken me to a large, stone mansion, with the promise of a surprise. I could practically **see** the glee in her eyes as we stood outside the gates. A loud, groaning clang of metal sounded as they were opened, and we strode down the path to the front door._

_The mansion was cold, with the perfect amount of light seeping in through assorted windows. Although my skin was prickling profusely, I could still appreciate the elegance and sophisticated design. It was decorated with beautiful silvery artefacts from all around the world, shimmering in the light. I followed the clack of Bella's boots into a large hall, equipped with a gigantic mahogany dining table. An exquisite fire crackled away to the right, providing subtle warmth. My goose pimples subsided as I was seated by a servant into a comfortable chair. Bellatrix sat next to me, flashing me a wonky grin._

_"Harry Potter." A charming, snake-like voice seeped into my ears. "After all these years. Welcome to Malfoy Manor."_

_Yes, Voldemort killed my parents, but I never knew them. Yes, he was utterly insane, but there was something about him that forced me to agree with him. I don't even know myself. Perhaps it was my thirst for power. I wanted to have more of it. One could hardly believe it, sitting opposite one of the darkest wizards the world has ever seen. He was quite good-looking. I liked his dark, raven-coloured hair and red eyes. We talked, and I felt right. Voldemort was very comparable to me; having been orphaned at an early age, been mistreated by his supposed 'guardians' and leading a solitary life very much segregated from the normal social scene._

_We were abruptly interrupted at one point by three arrivals._

_"Ah, . . Draco. Please, come, sit." Gestured Voldemort, snapping his fingers for more servants to attend to their needs. I turned around to look at them. A sneering man with long, silky blond hair was sat next to Bellatrix, giving me a critical look. On his left was a harsh-looking woman with pretty features but a venomous disposition._

_"Harry, I'd like you to meet the Lord and Lady of the manor, and their son Draco."_

_"Mr Potter." Mr Malfoy hissed, cocking his eyebrow. Mrs Malfoy nodded her head slightly._

_The last person sat down next to her. Draco Malfoy, as I remember, was ever the most handsome boy I have ever had the pleasure of meeting. His blonde hair was astonishingly wonderful. A few bangs fell loosely around his forehead, framing his pale face. The rest was slicked back neatly like his father's, although it was not quite as long. Draco had an amiable face, and was well-mannered and witty. I liked him the best._

_And that brings me to where I am today, sitting on a lavish bed with Draco Malfoy seated behind me as I write. His juvenile methods of distraction seem to be working._

* * *

><p>"Why do you bother writing in that old thing Potter?" Draco said, kissing a heated trail up to Harry's neck from his jugular. The boy groaned, reaching his free hand backwards to thread in Draco's hair. The blond ran pale fingers down Harry's arm, gently pulling the diary out of his grip and throwing it on the floor across the room. Those wicked fingers deftly pulled at Harry's shirt, pulling it upwards to expose the soft, creamy flesh. The smaller boy pulled Draco in for a kiss, mewling as he began to grind against his rear.<p>

"Mmm…Draco…" The Malfoy quietly flipped them over, massaging the skin of Harry's stomach and placing gentle kisses on his neck. "My prince…"

Draco sucked on the marble skin a little, making Harry cry out.

"Ahn~" The blond began to suck harder, soaking in the delicious noises his lover was making.

"My prince." Harry repeated, resting his hands on top of Draco's hair. He was never very good at keeping diaries anyway.


End file.
